


fold

by Fluffifullness



Series: Tumblr MakoHaru Festival [10]
Category: Free!
Genre: Embarrassment, Fluff, Height Differences, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Prompt Fic, Tumblr: makoharufestival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:24:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffifullness/pseuds/Fluffifullness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru probably could have chosen a better method for settling his concerns regarding the obvious height difference between himself and Makoto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fold

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "busted" challenge of the [makoharu festival on tumblr](http://makoharufestival.tumblr.com/). The entry post on tumblr is [here](http://makoharufestival.tumblr.com/post/75485292510/challenge-busted-user-fluffifullness-rating-sfw?utm_medium=email&utm_source=html&utm_campaign=submission_published&utm_term=respond_link).

It makes sense for the whole four-person swim club to share an inexpensive dinner out once in a while. Practice tends to run a little late some days, and Rei’s been helping Nagisa with his homework more and more frequently – and it’s nothing new for Makoto and Haruka to do the same, late nights with maybe a bit of gaming and more often than not a sleepover spent lying close enough to hear each other fall asleep. Haru doesn’t know what Rei and Nagisa do when they finish their own after-restaurant study sessions, but he does kind of wonder. He can’t imagine Nagisa staying focused for a long time, and Rei’s never been very good at reining his boyfriend in, either.

It’s supposed to be a time-saving thing – or something, Haru’s sure they used to have some better way of justifying it – but it’s turned into more of a double-date tradition. Triple-date, whenever Rin and Aiichirou feel like tagging along. (Sometimes it’s both teams in their entireties, and then Kou’s there, too, and Samezuka’s captain watches her with a look in his eyes that couldn’t be any more obvious if he taped a sign to his forehead.)

Haru likes the time they spend surrounded by people they can get along with – people who appreciate many of the same things Haru does, wanting to win and the soothing rush of lukewarm water every time you jump into a pool for the first time – but he likes the quiet of small, familiar crowds just a little more.

“Wasn’t Gou-chan supposed to come with us today?”

Rei gives Nagisa a reprimanding look and shakes his head. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Nagisa –”

“I wasn’t!” Nagisa complains loudly. “I was just thinking that it’s been a while since it was all five of us.”

“She said she had to meet someone today,” Makoto explains. “Didn’t mention who it was, though.”

Haru thinks they all sort of know who it was – not her brother, or she would have just gone ahead and said so – and they also probably know that some of it is just Kou not wanting to be caught up in the atmosphere of two couples out on a date. The way they interact is a little different when they meet for these things, after all. It’s still as good-natured and relaxed as it is everywhere else – at least Haru thinks so – but he can almost imagine how awkward it might get, tagging along as a fifth wheel. The touches they share just a little less secretly, the exchanged looks and the things they sometimes talk about.

Besides, she has her own friends, probably a nice change given the amount of time she puts into acting as the manager for a team full of guys. No one begrudges her the time away, and she in turn has proven not to mind their various relationships all that much. She doesn’t look down or idolize or even really react to any of their surreptitious displays of affection – when she notices at all.

They’re all just friends. Haru likes that.

He gradually realizes that the others are still talking, and somehow that captain – Seijuurou – has been brought up by name since Haru stopped paying close attention. Makoto’s watching him with an amused smile; Haru can’t tell if he knows what he’s been thinking about, but he probably noticed Haru getting caught up in his own thoughts even before Haru himself did.

He shoots his boyfriend a slightly dirty look, but he doesn’t get a chance to say anything.

“Oh!” Nagisa says brightly – all the noisy interruption Haru needs to shut right up – out of the blue and grinning wide. “Come to think of it, isn’t it pretty funny how we all have a big height difference?” He nods thoughtfully. “Rin-chan and Ai-chan, Gou-chan and her secret boyfriend!” He says ‘secret’ like the whole thing might actually be pretty scandalous – an awfully big overstatement for what’s really going on between the two of them. They’re taking it slow, maybe trying to avoid the natural awkwardness of first meetings and getting to know another person. Haru’s never been very good at it, but that’s only ever been more reason for him to think of it as important.

“So? It’d be weirder if everyone were exactly the same height.”

Nagisa pouts at him. “But it’s a big difference! Ai-chan and I are kind of short, anyway, but Haru-chan’s pretty normal, and Mako-chan’s still a _lot_ taller than you!”

Haru glares. “He is not.”

“Mako-chan, how tall are you?”

Makoto looks from Haru to Nagisa and then back again. Haru dares him with his eyes, but Makoto only chuckles and answers, “I think it was 183 centimeters the last time I had an examination.”

Nagisa turns to Haru; Haru turns away.

“Not telling.”

The blonde looks immediately downcast. “Aw, but Haru-chan –”

“I don’t remember,” Haru insists stubbornly.

“Haru’s 175 centimeters, I think. I just happened to see the form from our last physical.”

“Makoto!”

Nagisa grins. “Wow, really? You guys aren’t even that far apart. Maybe it’s just ‘cause Mako-chan’s got bigger muscles, then!”

Rei clears his throat and eyes Haru warily. “Haruka-senpai doesn’t seem to be enjoying this,” he warns after a moment. “How about we pick something else to talk about?”

Makoto laughs a little more and then nods. “Rei’s right. Sorry, Haru.”

“…I said we weren’t that different,” Haru mutters. “I used to be way taller than Makoto…”

“That’s true,” Makoto agrees honestly. “It used to help a lot when I was uncomfortable with something” – he laughs and rubs sheepishly at the back of his neck – “things like the dark and ghosts. Ah – and some of the bigger kids, too.”

Nagisa leans in. “You say that like you’re not still scared of those things, Mako-chan.”

“No one bullies Makoto anymore,” Haru says earnestly.

Makoto blushes and looks down at his hands folded loosely in his lap – and Haru can see what he’s doing, making up for putting Haru on the spot by letting them do the same thing to him. He’d like to scold Makoto for that, too, but Nagisa doesn’t leave Haru enough room to speak.

“It is nice, though! Rei-chan’s a lot taller than me, and that’s kind of cute” – he snuggles closer to Rei, who looks at him like he’s just suggested that they have sex in public – “so it’s like he can protect me from bad things, too!”

“Th-that should be mutual!” Rei says defiantly. “And what exactly am I supposed to be protecting you from, anyway?”

Nagisa tries to look like he’s deep in thought, but his answer comes far too quickly for that to be the case. “You know, Rei-chan – bad people and ghosts and things. Like Mako-chan said!”

“I didn’t _exactly_ say anything about bad people…”

Makoto’s protest passes as thoroughly ignored as Haru’s did. Rei sighs, blushing. “I – I don’t mind protecting Nagisa-kun from things like that,” he says gruffly. “Provided you’d do the same thing for me…”

Nagisa laughs and throws his arms around Rei. “Of course, Rei-chan! That goes without saying!”

Haru hides a smile and finally stops watching them as they dissolve into a mess of garbled conversation and jostling limbs. He turns and finds Makoto looking at him again, but this time his expression is one of mild concern.

Haru exhales slowly and hopes that his own expression is as relaxed as he wants it to be. “It’s fine. I’m not mad.”

Makoto smiles. “I’m not so worried about that,” he admits, then lowers his voice and casts a sidelong glance at Nagisa. “You’re not gonna wind up overthinking this, are you?”

“There’s nothing to think about,” Haru snaps. “We’re practically the same height, anyway!”

“So you are,” Makoto concludes. “It’s okay –”

“What, Haru-chan’s still thinking about being shorter than Mako-chan?” Nagisa wonders with a laugh. “Like I said, Haru-chan, it’s actually a good thing! Another example… Oh, I know! Doesn’t it feel really good when Mako-chan gives you hugs? Because –”

Rei stops him by clapping a hand to his mouth. “Nagisa!” he hisses. “That’s enough!”

 

Their dinners out often wind up involving more talking than eating, but they do all finish their food eventually – and then it’s time to head home, at first together and then split into two pairs, refreshed by the food and ready to study before the weekend. There’s some talk about Rei potentially spending the night at Nagisa’s house, and they all agree to leave the next day open for another outing of some kind – Rei’s suggestion, actually, because they’ll all be so close anyway that it’d just be convenient.

Makoto and Haru finish the rest of their walk home in relative silence. Makoto brings things up every now and then in an attempt to get Haru to talk, but Haru doesn’t bite – barely notices Makoto say anything until the topic switches to something more immediately relevant.

“Where should we go?” Makoto asks. “Your house, or mine?”

Haru looks at him. “Yours.”

“Alright,” Makoto agrees. “Wanna stop by your place to pick up some clothes first?”

Haru tries to look like he’s seriously considering the offer, but he’s not sure that he can fool Makoto. He finally just shakes his head and stares wordlessly at the ground in front of him; Makoto makes a sound that’s almost a laugh, but he otherwise lets the whole thing pass without comment.

They make it to Makoto’s house pretty soon after that, greet his parents, and then head upstairs to spend some time working on several pages of homework. Not a lot of time, though – they stop when Haru admits that he’s having a hard time focusing. It’s not a lie, but he’s been planning to say so since before they started.

So maybe it _is_ a lie, just a little.

 

Ran and Ren are allowed to stay up a little bit later on weekends. That often means joining their brother and Haru in playing video games – Makoto always goes easy on them, lets them win, and Haru tries to do the same but usually fails at pretending to lose honestly – but the funny thing about that is the ease with which it lulls them to sleep. The twins almost always wind up passing out on one or both of the boys’ laps, and after a while they have to be carried into their own rooms to rest a little more comfortably. When all’s said and done, they don’t usually make it all that far past their original bedtime.

The routine tonight is pretty much the same. The only difference is that Haru suggests waiting until later to take proper showers. His and Makoto’s skin still smells like chlorine; they’d been in a hurry to leave after practice, after all, so it had come down to a brief rinse-off minus soap and shampoo. He’d prefer to get clean sooner rather than later – and he’s sure that Makoto probably feels the same way – but he needs it like this, just for tonight. He’s relieved that it all goes so smoothly – the twins gone to bed, Makoto smiling and offering to let Haru bathe first.

And it's a one-time rare instance of Haru actually hurrying to leave the stream of warm water.

Makoto taps lightly on the door right as he’s just finishing up, calls Haru quietly – probably to avoid waking anyone who’s already gone to bed – and Haru manages to fasten a towel around his waist before coming to answer it himself.

Makoto greets him with a smile. “Here,” he says, extending his hands with a set of his own clothes perched on them. “These should fit you.”

Haru recognizes the shirt right away; he’s borrowed it plenty of times before, partly because it’s – well – a little smaller than some of the others, and then also because it’s soft. Makoto probably knows it’s sort of a favorite for him.

He accepts the clothes with a nod and then turns back into the bathroom, closes the door, and finishes getting dressed. He does it almost carelessly, towels his hair dry so that it sticks up at odd angles – he pats it down as he’s leaving – and barely pauses when the pants he’s borrowed from Makoto sag a little too low on his hips. (It’s fine, anyway, because the shirt’s long enough to cover everything and more.)

Haru finds Makoto practically falling asleep on the guest futon he’s set up in his room, and he worries for a moment that Makoto might actually decide to wait until morning to shower – but when he calls his name, the brunette sits up and rubs groggily at his eyes.

“My turn…?”

“Yeah. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s fine. That was actually really quick, Haru.”

He feigns surprise. “I didn’t notice.”

Makoto laughs at that and rises to his feet. “If you say so. I’ll try to be fast, too, okay?”

The combination of irritation at having been so easily seen through and the satisfaction of having the room all to himself leaves Haru torn between frowning and smiling at Makoto as he heads out into the hallway.

 

Haru thinks that he should probably hesitate. He stands alone in the center of Makoto’s room, surveys himself from top to bottom and – yeah, this definitely shouldn’t feel like such a non-issue.

Actually, it might be better that it does. He’ll be done before Makoto ever finishes taking his shower, so Haru will be the only one who knows. And he won’t be able to stop thinking about it if he doesn’t take care of the nagging concern right now. That means that he has to do it, so it’s basically okay. It sounds like a workable excuse to him, at least.

He goes for Makoto’s closet first, pausing only briefly with his hand on the doorknob before quietly and slowly pulling it open. There isn’t a lot hanging there, but Haru reaches for the largest shirt he can find and pulls it down from its hanger. It settles limply in his hand, soft like so many of Makoto’s other shirts and an unfamiliar forest green. Makoto must not like this one as much; if he did, Haru’s sure he’d be able to recognize it at a glance.

When he finally feels like he can move again, he stops staring at the thing and returns to the bed. He sits down to take his current shirt off and sets that one down on the covers beside him. Now shivering in the comparative cold – and his hair still damp, which only makes it worse – he’s quick to pull the new shirt on.

The sensation isn’t the same, but the expression fits: he’s practically swimming in it. The sleeves won’t sit on Haru’s shoulders. They keep drifting down on either side so that the entire shirt is hanging on him, covering just three quarters or so of his entire upper body. He fixes that by tugging the sleeves up so that the shirt’s high collar dips very low on his chest, but then the whole thing just looks stupid.

So his shoulders aren’t as broad as Makoto’s, maybe.

Or maybe this one doesn’t fit either of them.

Haru drops the rejected shirt on the floor and storms back to the closet. His second choice looks to be about the same size as the other one, but that doesn’t deter him from tugging the thing on and struggling to situate the collar and sleeves all over again.

No luck. Haru sighs irritably and casts the piece of clothing off to one side.

Maybe he wants to reassure himself, he thinks as he tries on a third one, a fourth one – _smaller,_ he thinks when he picks it out, but it still fits him only slightly better than all the others.

This isn’t the first time he’s really _noticed_ how tall Makoto’s gotten; he sees it all the time, sometimes has to stand back and marvel at the difference. He’s wondered a few times what ever happened to the Makoto who’d been shy and quiet and smaller than Haru. He used to protect that Makoto – he remembers what Nagisa said, all that stuff about feeling safe and the dark – but this Makoto doesn’t need the help nearly as often.

So yeah – a fifth, a sixth shirt, a dark blue one with some white thrown into a geometric design – maybe he wants to think that the difference isn’t as huge as it sometimes seems. Maybe he’s trying to remember what it felt like to be the bigger and stronger of the two. Like wearing the clothes of the one who’s bigger now will put him in that space, make him feel the way Makoto must.

Eight. Nine.

He doesn’t bother hanging any of them back up, folding them back into their respective drawers, no – he’s sure he’ll be able to do that if he hurries, and he listens carefully for the slow rhythm of Makoto coming back from the bathroom.

Nothing yet. He can still hear the water running, so he takes a moment to stretch leisurely from within the confines of one especially comfortable shirt. He wonders how anyone capable of filling it out could also be afraid of silly things like Makoto is – ghosts and the dark and lame horror movies, harmless stuff like that.

 _How could a guy like that be so protective,_ he wonders, but Makoto fits the role of older brother like it was made exclusively for him. Makoto is safe, he cares deeply and openly and he’s kind, comforting and selfless. He’s brave in an everyday way, not the kind of warrior courage you see in movies but courageous in the real sense. Haru’s seen it, he knows – but –

He doesn’t want to be protected by Makoto. He feels suddenly small, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself or with the shoes he can’t literally fill –

“Haru?”

“Ma –” Haru stutters to a halt. His neck prickles almost painfully, there’s a new lump in his throat and his eyes go wide. “Makoto,” he says again, voice straining. He forces himself to look down at the clothes scattered all over the floor around him. He’s kneeling at the epicenter, another shirt – bright red – clenched tightly in his hands.

“What are you doing?”

“I – I just –” His eyes get all wet, like he’s about to burst into tears, and he has to shrink inward just to keep calm, eyes turned to his hands in his lap, heart hammering so hard his head also throbs. “N-nothing,” he rasps finally.

Makoto’s voice is softer when he speaks again. “I’m not mad – or anything,” he says cautiously. “You don’t have to make that face, Haru-chan…”

Haru swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Not making a face,” he mutters. He can do nothing about the wreckage around him. He can’t remember ever feeling so embarrassed.

“You okay?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll clean it up.” Voice uncharacteristically fraught with emotion, thick with it.

“You don’t have to,” Makoto says, and he crosses the room to sit opposite Haru, just a breath away; he has to move two shirts aside just to clear a spot for himself. “Was the other shirt not okay?”

Haru shakes his head again, more quickly this time. “I like that one,” he confesses.

Makoto looks confused, but Haru doesn’t know what else to say – so he says nothing at all, just sits and barely looks at his boyfriend.

He can almost hear the gears turning in Makoto’s head, the conclusions being drawn – that Haru’s been acting weird, just a little off, trying to pretend things and failing badly at it – and then that that only started after they parted ways with the other two. The way the soft fabric of Haru’s current shirt cascades off of him, ample where on Makoto it would just be a relaxed fit.

“Is this about dinner, by any chance?”

The tense rise of Haru’s shoulders relaxes slightly, but he still refuses to talk.

Makoto sighs. “I’m really not mad, Haru. If you’re tired, you can lie down, and I’ll –”

“Makoto,” Haru mumbles, looking up at him through his bangs.

“Yeah?”

“It was,” Haru says quietly. “It was about that. I don’t think it’s a bad thing, but I don’t like it.”

“The fact that you’re a little smaller…?”

Haru nods. “It’s still hard to get used to.”

“It’s been years,” Makoto chuckles. “Besides, it isn’t like you’re actually small, either, Haru. I think we’re pretty average as height differences go. Nagisa was just playing.”

Haru tugs halfheartedly at the fabric of Makoto’s shirt, the one Haru’s wearing now. “It’s noticeable.”

“But not a big deal,” Makoto reminds him. “At least a few of these fit you, right?”

“Not _really,_ ” Haru huffs irritably. He glares at a white, scantily-patterned shirt where it’s lying to his right. “But – it was bothering me. I wanted to figure it out.”

“Did you?”

His cheeks heat up. “I don’t look good in your clothes.”

Makoto laughs. “That’s not what I was thinking. Though I guess you _would_ be hard-pressed to find anything that really fits – well, I mean.” Sheepishly, he adds, “I actually don’t wear that one” – he nods at Haru’s original shirt where it’s still messily folded on the bed – “as much anymore. It’s a little small…”

“ _Makoto._ ”

“Sorry, sorry,” Makoto says with an amused smile. “Are you okay now? Do you understand what was bothering you?”

“I’m okay,” Haru murmurs, almost surprised himself. “We’re not… unequal,” he says haltingly. “I’ll protect you if you protect me. So you can be scared of stupid things and still be reliable, and I’ll keep you safe, too. So it’s fair.”

Makoto’s smile widens, and he scoots over so that his shoulder’s pressed into Haru’s, all close and warm and soft. “It was already like that, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking…”

“It happens,” Makoto shrugs. “I used to be a little jealous of you, too, Haru. I know how it is.” Wanting to measure up to your partner along every dimension, he means, courage-wise and intelligence-wise and even height-wise. Wanting to be as good a person, worth every ounce of what he – or she – has to give. They’ve known each other forever, and they still have to work through that.

“I guess so,” Haru agrees. “Thanks.”

Makoto adjusts his position slightly and slips an arm around Haru, hugging him halfway for a moment before turning and gathering all of him into a full-on embrace – face pressed into the curve of his neck, breath hot and hair damp.

Haru’s breath catches, but he doesn’t fight his way free or flinch away. Makoto is warm and solid, safe-feeling, and Haru likes it.

“Does it feel as good as Nagisa said?” Makoto wonders innocently.

“Yeah,” Haru says without pause. “Yeah, it does.”

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the heights for [Makoto](http://free-anime.wikia.com/wiki/Makoto_Tachibana) and [Haruka](http://free-anime.wikia.com/wiki/Haruka_Nanase) from the _Free!_ wiki. According to their respective pages, 175 centimeters is roughly 5'9", and 183 centimeters about 6'0". Really, it's just a 3-inch difference, Haru. ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ What a dork.


End file.
